I bought a coffee, spring water, a pack of cigarettes and caught myself saying “that was all pretty cheap. There were times in my past where I didn’t make enough in an hour to cover the price of my afternoon refreshment, and when I indulged, I felt satisfied… almost sophisticated. I am not complaining that my earning power isn’t well justified, but I miss that feeling of satisfaction elicited by what has now become mundane or easily accessable.

Perhaps the apothecaries of the old world were right, maybe I do have animbalabce of bodily humors. Scorn, happiness, humility, pleasure… set off kilter with our modern coping chemicals of caffeine, nicotine, refined sugar, and distilled spirits are throwing things off kilter. Pop psychology isn’t helping me. This critical thinking and self-reflection is becoming as much as a burden as tools to better one’s self.

It’s times like these I wish I were a good fiction writer. This would be good fodder for a tortured protagonist…